


prove it

by theaugust



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: F/M, Non-Human Genitalia, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Xenophilia, disgusting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:14:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26485489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theaugust/pseuds/theaugust
Relationships: Vetra Nyx/Male Ryder | Scott
Kudos: 25





	prove it

Scott lays on the floor. Bass heavy synths fill the room and vibrate through his aching frame. Typically the sensation soothes, but his muscles keep tensing up. His mind keeps wandering: back to that mountaintop on Kadara, the sky stretched out above him, Vetra beside him.  
After their race up the side of the mountain, Scott had been a shaky, panting mess. He'd dragged himself away from the edge and rolled over. She'd stood over him and grinned, "Having fun?"  
Still panting hard, he managed a weak smile.  
"You look like you're having fun."  
He didn't know what to make of that. He imagined he looked a mess: red-faced, coated in sweat and dirt, hair hopelessly tousled and sticking up in the back probably. His breath finally evening out, he sighed and relaxed into the hard stone beneath him. She settled to stretch out beside him.  
"Scott. Is this real?"  
"Yea, I think the sky's real."  
"No, this. How you are towards me. It's like you…" As her voice trailed off, her hand shifted closer to his. "Care more than a friend. I don't mind if it's 'no.' I just want to be sure. It gets messy otherwise."  
His chest seized, aching dully. He didn't think about it: he just grabbed her hand. Her three fingers settled among his five. The ache subsided, a fluttering rising up from his gut, so he had to turn slightly, had to see her. "I do care. More than a friend."  
"Really? I didn't want to assume." As she spoke, he sat up then turned to lean over her. Her voice softened as he grabbed at her narrow waist. "It seemed so unlikely. Me, you..." She trailed off again as he bent to kiss her, her plates rough beneath his chapped lips.  
Grinning, he asked, "How's that for proving it?"  
"I'm convinced."  
She reached up to thread gloved fingers through his hair, to pull him down into another kiss. Her plates stirred beneath his lips. He opened his mouth as her ridged tongue brushed against his lips. Eyes slipping closed, he sucked at her tongue. It moved with his, its coarse edges sending ripples down his spine, and he savored the strange, earthy sweetness of her kiss. He nibbled at her tongue. She moaned, a low sound that vibrated through him, and her fingers rubbed tingles across his scalp. With a shudder, he bit at the thick plate of her lower lip. She chuckled, and his cheeks had flared red.  
Resting his forehead against hers, he asked, "No good?"  
"I wouldn't say that. Just feels―funny. Probably not the effect you intended."  
He grinned. "But the tongue stuff is good, yea?" He brushed a finger up her mandible. "Let me try again."  
It twitched and jerked at his touch. Her fingers grabbed at the back of his neck. Again, she tugged him down, and as she opened her mouth to him, he slipped his tongue in. The edge of her lower lip plate grazed his tongue. The sensation skittered over his skin, and a flush of heat followed in its wake. Her tongue twisted with his. Groaning, he tugged at her armored chestpiece. She pressed a hand to his armor and nudged. Her lip plates pressed lightly at his tongue, then pinched at his lower lip, and he rolled back to let her settle on top of him. The whole of her pressed into him. His hands began roaming and patting her sides, her back, trying to find the fastens.  
"Pathfinder," SAM's voice flashed from Scott's omnitool, "Liam needs to speak with you."  
He grunted, wrapping his arms around Vetra. She rubbed her nose, surprisingly smooth and warm, against his cheek. Squeezing at her, he turned to kiss her again. He'd been all teeth and urgency, and as she moaned and gasped, his cock stiffened and throbbed. For months, he'd been staring at her, been hoping, and now, finally—  
"Ryder, Ryder, Ryder," Liam called, with increasing volume, his voice blaring from the orange screen on Scott's forearm. Gritting his teeth, he inhaled sharply. "SAM, be sure he knows I'm just going to get more annoying until―"  
"Okay, Kosta, okay, yea, I hear you. What the fuck is it?"  
"Situation at Kralla's Song. Drack―"  
Scott sighed heavily. "On our way." But for a long moment, he lingered. He held Vetra tight and stared up at a sky both familiar and foreign. "Can't decide if I want to smack Liam or Drack more."  
Chuckling, she nuzzled at his cheek. "I call dibs on Liam." Her mandibles brushed against his skin as she spoke. "You gotta let go now."  
"Sorry, I was…" His voice trailed off as his arms dropped to his side. He lost the excuse as he lost the weight of her body against his. With wide eyes, he watched her sit up then shift so her hips settled over his, their armor clicking, the vibration and pressure teasing at his cock. He swallowed and clawed at the rock beneath him.  
"How bad do you want to leave Liam to deal with Drack's mess this time?" she grinned.  
"Real fucking bad," he huffed. "Only time I'll ever say this and mean it: please don't tease me."  
She'd laughed, and that had almost made the frustration worth it.  
But he'd wanted―he wants her. Like some lovesick youth, he's listening to music, thinking about the girl, and touching himself. His hand covers his erection, and his hips grind it up into his palm. The sensation frustrates more than anything, much like that click of their armor. He wants to get under hers.  
But Scott can't bring himself to approach her all worked up like this, so he flips onto his belly. Braced on his knees, ass in the air, he grips his aching cock. His hand strokes, slowly, the familiar length up then down. Forehead pressed to the floor, he grunts and moans―"Vetra, ah, please..."  
Please what? What did he want from her? With a soft curse, he rolls once more onto his back. He refuses to be just another person with a hand out. She has enough of those in her life, and she deserves―well, more than that. He frowns, chewing at the inside of his cheek. More than him, he realizes, but that doesn't stop him from wondering. What does she want?  
Those words echo in him; those words haunt him. Until at last he is pulling on some clothes then rushing down to the armory. Vetra has the door open, but Scott still raps his knuckles against the frame and waits at the threshold. She turns, those pale green eyes staring at him through the blue of her visor. Her mandibles twitch, and she stands.   
"Scott, shouldn't you be sleeping?"  
"Shouldn't you?" he grins.  
With a shrug, she jabs a thumb back to her displays. "Just catching up on everything I missed while planetside."  
He finally steps into the room. His hands keep clenching into fists, and he keeps forcing them to relax. "And after you've caught up?" he asks. "Think I could get a moment alone?"  
Shifting to lean against her desk, she cocks her head to one side. "Could use the break. Close the door."  
"You heard her, SAM."  
As the door swishes behind him, SAM's voice whispers to Scott, "The rest of the crew is occupied, but I would still recommend locking the door. Please remember what Dr. T'Perro--"  
"Not now," Scott groans. His eyes drift up. "Switch off for a while."  
She chuckles. "I don't think that's how it works."  
With a sigh, Scott smiles. "A boy can dream. Well, that's assuming that he can sleep."  
"Something on your mind?"  
"I'll give you three guesses."  
"Okay." She folds her arms across her chest and counts off her guesses on one hand. "The kett, relations with the angara, some new political nonsense from the Nexus? Gotta be one of those."  
Crossing to her, he swallows the lump that forms when her eyes meet his again. "Not today." He steps up in front of her. Her mandibles twitch, and he licks at his lips. "I keep wondering, if Liam hadn't interrupted…"  
She chuckles. "Go on."  
The words are a low purr, and they send a flush rippling over his skin. He reaches for her hip. Rubbing at the smooth fabric, he imagines the rough plates and scaled skin beneath. "Would you have let me under that armor?" he whispers, his hand slipping around Vetra's narrow waist. "Would you have let me touch you, taste you?"  
Her mandibles flare out. "Taste? Ryder, you want to—to go down on me?"  
He bites at the inside of his cheek. "Would you like that?" he mumbles.  
Grinning, she shifts back to perch on the desk's edge. "How do you do that? You're so bold then so adorably sheepish."  
"I might have practiced the line. Didn't think much beyond that." One hand still on the small of her back, he taps at the inside of her knee with the side of his thigh. She widens her knees, and he steps up against her. Even seated, she is taller. Looking up into those eyes―pale, focused, like a predator honed on him―that look races through him. It tightens his gut, sets his heart to pounding, and floods his body with a desperate heat. He claws uselessly at the fabric separating him from her back, her thigh. "You didn't answer me."  
At his touch, her back arches, her knee lifts and brushes the outside of his thigh up his pant leg. She reaches to tap at her visor. Its blue glow fades, and her pupils go wide, nearly filling her eyes. "Remind me of the question. You're a bit distracting, you know."  
"Do you want to sit on my face?"  
"What―now?"  
His sharp bark of laughter twists into a groan. Bending to brush his lips against the side of her neck, he breathes, "Now, tomorrow, whenever..."  
Her head tilts back, exposing her neck. He gives her a light nip, his teeth catching on her scales, and she chuckles. Her hands brush up his arms. One slips around his back, to grab at the opposite shoulder, and the other trails gloved fingers up the back of his neck, through his hair. "You really want to—to—"  
"Yes," he blurts, lifting his head to look up at her again, "I really want to lick your cunt."  
Her mandibles flare; her eyes widen. "And you want me to?"  
"Take off the fucking armor. Please?"  
Chuckling, her gloved hand grasps his wrist and guides his hand to a spot beneath her left arm. "First fasten is there," she says as he clicks the clasp loose. "Next is just—" It clicks, and she smiles.  
As she talks him through the removal of her pauldrons and chestpiece, she removes her gloves. Her three thick fingers end in claws filed blunt. They rest on his chest, those claws digging lightly into his taut muscles then pulling at his shirt. He lifts his arms, and she tugs the shirt over his head. Dropping it, she reaches to trail a blunted tip down his bare torso. His skin prickles; his muscles twitch. Her finger stops just below his belly button, but the wave of heat it sparks continues down. He inhales a sharp hiss then exhales it slowly. Smiling, she leans closer, and he eagerly moves to kiss her. Her tongue in his teeth, he groans and loses himself in the kiss.  
Until she breaks from it. Her mandibles flared out, she struggles out a breathless chuckle. "You really enjoy that, don't you?"  
From head to toe, he tenses. "Yuh-yea, I... do you?"  
"Mm, yea. Never really done much kissing, but you―your lips are so soft." She reaches to rub a blunted claw from his lip down to the chin.  
He grins, slipping his hands around her waist. "Vetra, what do you want? I told you what I wanted."  
"What I want?" she repeats.  
"Name it, and I'll―"  
"Out of those pants, then," she purrs, and the words set fire to his already flushed skin. His hands fumble with the fastens of his pants. She chuckles, and he bites at the inside of his cheek. As his pants fall around his ankles, he drops his eyes. With a soft hum, she bends to nip at his neck, just beneath his ear. "This typical for you?" A hand trails down his back to squeeze at the taut muscle of one ass cheek. "Or you just that happy to see me?"  
Blushing, he laughs, though he's unsure if she means the lack of underwear or the obvious erection curling up his thigh. "Told you you were keeping me up," he mumbles. "You think I was exaggerating?"  
"A bit. Now, undress me."  
His hands move immediately to her collar and its fasten. The backs of his fingers rub against the soft scales of her neck, and she hums again. His fingers shake as they tug the fasten loose then down, as they peel the last barrier between them away. Pulling it over her hips, he kneels before her. He hooks his fingers into her suit, on either side of her hips, and he slowly rolls the fabric down. His gaze trails down the plates and scales adorning her chest, and his fingers cannot resist darting up to caress the sharp angles of the plates covering her belly. They continue up, along the raised groove at the center of her chest. Chuckling, she brushes blunted claws across his scalp. He drops his hand to tug at her suit, now around her ankles. She shifts back onto the desk and kicks her feet free. Her fingers in his hair, he smiles up at her then leans to kiss along the same path of his fingers. As his lips trail back down, a shiver ripples through her.  
"Is this okay?" He punctuates the question with another kiss, lower, on the flat plate just beneath the sharp angles of her waist, then another, in the seam of dull grey-brown scales running down the inside of her thigh. Her fingers twist, claws scrapping at him as they grab a tight handful of his hair. His hands squeeze at the lean curve of her thigh, and he moans.  
"Yea, Scott," she says, and the words burn, first in his ears, then across his exposed skin. Gently, she tugs at his hair. "Kiss me."  
He resists her for a moment; she tugs harder. He grins. She gives him a firm but brief yank; he hisses in surprise. She releases him. Her eyes are wide, the plates above them arched high, and her voice shakes when she asks, "Did I hurt you?"  
As soon as she releases him, he stands. His hands are on her hips, his fingers rubbing along the sharp points and dips of her body, and he leans into her, leans up to kiss her. Her hands return to his hair as they kiss. As it tapers off, he rubs his nose against hers and smiles.  
"You did," he finally whispers, "but I like it."  
One hand remains on her hip. Its fingers trace the ridge of her hip while his other hand explores the pebbled softness along the inside of her thigh. Her back arches, hip shifting into his touch, knees spreading and drawing up his sides. His hand follows her motion. It dips up, along the smooth plates between her legs, and her muscles shudder at his touch.  
His fingers ghost over the plates, and her thighs tense around him. His eyes are on her face as his fingers rub up and down the plates surrounding her slit. Glassy-eyed, mandibles twitching and flaring out, she stares back at him. Up and down he strokes her, his fingers lightly teasing now and again at the soft slit between the plates. Moaning, she squirms, her hips jerking in desperation as her slit opens beneath his fingers. He pulls them away to suck at them. Then, wet and shaking, they return to brush along her slit.  
"You've done this before," she says.  
He stops, tensing against her. "Yes." His fingers probe lightly at her warm center. "You ever had a human lick you before?"  
Her hips shudder, moving into his hand. "No," she sighs. "Scott, I…"  
A frown flickers over his brow, but he smiles. His hand retreats to squeeze at her hip. She whimpers, and he kisses her, briefly, first on the plates of her mouth then at the side of her mandible.  
"If you don't want this, we don't have to," he mumbles, nuzzling at the soft scales of her neck. "I'll do whatever you want, Vetra. I want to make you feel good―make you happy."  
"I want this," she says, grabbing at him with arms and legs. He lifts his head as she squeezes at him. "I want you, Scott."  
One hand grabs at the back of his neck, her claws digging into him, and she pulls his mouth to hers. Her plates catch his lip, and her free hand slips down his back. Moaning, hips bucking up, he brushes the underside of his prick up against her thigh. Her hand continues down, fingers groping at his taut backside, and he rolls his hips. As they kiss, he ruts against her, and her hand squeezes and pulls him into her. Grinning, he is distantly aware of how chaffed he'll be tomorrow, but he relishes the sensation of her plates and scales rubbing along his skin. He savors the tingling scrape of her claws across his back. With a soft sigh, he eases his fingers down. Her hips rock against his hand, and he bites back a moan when his fingers find her plates fully withdrawn. They brush down the soft lips, already slick.  
"Shit," he hisses.  
Her mandibles pinch in, and he smiles at her. Her features relax. He reaches to tug her legs from his waist. She shifts back on the desk, her legs splayed wide, and he takes a step back. Her now exposed center is the same grey-brown of her scales, though it glistens. Staring, he licks his lips, and she rests a hand on his shoulder. Her eyes narrowing on him, she nudges him down. He drops once more to his knees. He bends, twisting to kiss along the elongated curve of her ankle, up the inside of her knee. His lips follow the path of darker stretches among her scales, where they are the smallest, the skin the most sensitive up into the seam of her leg. A hand grabs at his head, and he flicks his eyes up the length of her. They linger here and there on her body, its hard angles and lean muscle beneath plates and scales, until they meet her eyes, the pale green barely visible around the wide dark of her pupils. Her claws dig into the back of his head, and his eyes slip closed. He lightly kisses the plate just above her slit as his fingers rub along the lips still taut over her entrance. After wetting his lips, he trails sloppy kisses down her slit. His tongue now and again slips out, teasing up and down her lips, savoring the sharp tang of her wet. She moans, a deep, hungry sound rumbling up from her chest, but restrained, half muffled by her mandibles still pinched in tight. He begins lapping up her lips, the tip of his tongue gently probing between them. She pulls at his hair, and he moans against her then sucks at her lips. Soon enough, they relax, and he slowly works them open with his tongue. It then darts up the top of her slit, licking and coaxing the taut organ hidden there.  
"Shit," she groans, mandibles flaring open. "Scott, you―it―"  
He lifts his mouth to watch the short, fleshy length of her clit curl out of her slit. It's the same grey-brown of her scales, with its tip tinged blue, small enough that his fist would easily engulf it but larger than all others he's seen. So he stares for a long moment, but then she reaches to cover herself. He grabs at her wrist with one hand; the other brushes a finger up the thin length of her clit then squeezes at its tip. The sound that erupts from her then is less a moan, more a throaty growl, and it rips through him. As he wraps her clit in his hand and strokes at her, he dips to lap up the wet leaking from her entrance. Her grip on his head stiffens, the claws pricking into his scalp, but he only grunts and slips his tongue inside her. Her walls clench around his tongue. Squeezing at his own thigh so hard that the muscle aches, he struggles to focus. His hand works her clit, methodically, the rhythm shifting from quick, light strokes to slow, hard, then back again, and his tongue fucks her, thrusting in and out, rubbing along her walls, finding what makes her whimper, what makes her shake. Lifting his head makes her yank his hair hard, crane his head back. Pain crinkles his brow, opens his mouth in a soft huff. He watches with wide eyes as she shifts and lifts her hips, angling her clit for his parted lips. One corner curls in a slight grin. Her clit bobs against his chin. Eyes slipping closed, he ducks his head to slide his mouth slowly down her length. The sound she makes then is soft, strangled, a startled cry, and it sounds like his name. So he glances up at her as he sucks at her clit and massages its underside with his tongue. Head lolled to one side, she gazes back at him with glassy eyes shadowed beneath heavy lids. Her mandibles flared out, her mouth slightly agape, she pants. Her weight is leaned back on her arms, now and again rocked by tremors. Now she's the shaky, panting mess, so he can't help himself.  
"Having fun?" he asks. When his mouth leaves her clit, her hips jerk up. Still panting hard, she manages a weak smile. His thumb and forefinger rub up and down her length. "You look like you're having fun."  
She chuckles and gives his hair a brief but firm yank. "You know you're good, you little shit."  
The affection in those three words startles him. Chest tightening, he struggles with the sudden urge of emotion and shakes his head. Which naturally seems like him trying to shake her off, so she gives him another yank. He groans, and her grip softens.  
"Scott, please," she whispers, her voice a velvety purr.  
He releases her clit to trace her lips, to take her clit once more into his mouth. Her hand guides him, the bobbing of his head, the lapping of his tongue, the thrusting of his fingers. At first, she jerks his head, and he gives her a fast, hard rhythm. Her walls flutter in ever tighter, ever more frantic spasms, and her body tenses from her toes to her mandibles. She holds his head still for a long moment, then she sighs, grinding her hips up against him in a slower, deeper rhythm. He follows her lead, sucking and moaning around her length. She clenches around his fingers, and he scissors them within her. She cries out, bucking her hips, jerking his head up.  
"I'm close," she pants.  
He blinks at her, straining against her grip. "Come in my mouth."  
"Scott, it―"  
"Please," he whimpers, "I want to taste you."  
Her grip pushes him back down. Gagging a bit, he squeezes at her hip as she fucks his face. He struggles to work his fingers in time with the hard jerks at his hair and the desperate bucking of her hips. His cock, leaking and too long neglected, aches and throbs. Her hand releases his hair only to nudge at his head.  
"I'm going to―ah, Scott," she cries out, her knees drawing up.  
His fingers slip from her so that his tongue can replace them. As his fist squeezes at the tip of her clit, his tongue presses down along her back wall. Her claws dig into his shoulders as she cries out―again and again. He continues squeezing, working his tongue, as she clenches around him and her wet gushes out all over his face. He can feel it dripping down his neck, chest, hear it hitting the floor, as she weakly pushes at his forehead.  
"Fuck," she mumbles, "fuck, that was―fuck."  
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he stands. She's still leaning back over the desk, so he leans over her to kiss her lightly. One hand brushes up his chest, caresses his neck. She chuckles, her eyes raking down then up him.   
"Made a mess of you. You going to return the favor?"  
"If you want."  
"I want to fuck," she sighs, her breath and mandibles tickling at his face.  
Those words knock the breath from his lungs. His cock throbs, and he bites at the inside of his cheek. "What―now?"  
Laughing, she traces her claws down his chest, his stomach. The muscles tense and jerk, and though her fingers stop, the heat of her touch continues down and coils tight in his gut. Her claws trace looping swirls across his hips, and hers shift farther, farther forward until the edge of her ass is hanging off the desk. Wrapping her legs around him, she jerks him up against her. His cock slides along her clit, and they both shudder. They both chuckle. Hooking a hand around the back of his neck, she pulls him closer for a kiss. As her plates tease his tongue, her claws brush along the sides of his cock, around the tip, down the underside. He moans, loud enough to echo, and a flush burns down his body. She grips him, a bit too tight, but he only groans softly, into her kiss. She's gentle enough as she guides him up against her wet entrance. Her legs draw his hips toward hers, and her wet envelopes his cock. His hips settle against hers, his cock settles within her, her clit curls up his belly. The sensation of her shuddering around his cock nearly overwhelms him.  
Breaking from the kiss, he gasps, "Vetra."  
She brushes a claw along his jaw. "Now, Scott," she says, "fuck me now."  
Her hand grasps his throat, and he leans into her touch. She smiles. Her fingers tense around his throat as his hips finally stir. Her grip is not enough to restrict his breath, but he's soon even more light-headed. The motion of his hips, initially hesitant, becomes more ragged, more desperate. He reaches to brush fingers down the side of her mandible, her neck, down her chest and belly. Her clit twitches against his belly. His hand continues down toward her clit, but she grabs at his wrist. His hips still. She whimpers, a low sound rumbling in her chest. Biting at his lip, he grins. Her hips rolls against his, her scales and plates rubbing along his skin, her wet moving and clenching around his cock. His hand strains against her grip as his hips move with hers. His thrusts are slow and deep, and his eyes are on her clit as it slides up and down his belly. Her hand drops from his throat, runs down his chest, his belly. He looks up at her, but her eyes are closed, her face turned to the side. Bending to nibble at her exposed neck, he twists his hand to brush along the plates covering her belly. Her grip softens. Moaning, she curls her hips against his, and he feels her hand move down between them. Her legs and her wet squeeze around him; her hand presses her clit against him. Tension thrums through his body and pools deep in his gut. His hand slips from hers and up along the soft, dark scales on her sides. She grabs at him, clinging to him as her hips circle and grind against his. Her plates burn across his skin; her wet trembles around him. Hissing softly, he nuzzles at her neck. His hips slam into hers, his cock hitting deep as he can inside her. Her fingers slip up his back into his hair, and they tug until he lifts his head.  
"Lie down." She nudges at his hip.  
He hesitates, staring into her eyes for a long moment, before he slowly slips from her. They both sigh softly. He's quick, though, to drop down and stretch out across floor. Staring up at her, he reaches for her, and she smiles, steps forward to stand over him.  
"I couldn't help but notice―the way you looked up at me..."  
As her voice trails off, she lifts a two-toed foot. Its tapered toes brush up his stomach, and he tenses against the shudder that sends through his whole body. Chuckling, she lightly rests her foot on his hip, the tip of one toe rubbing at the side of his cock. He can't fight this shudder, and it ripples from his cock out through his whole body. Blushing yet again, he fights the urge to cover his face. His hands ball into useless fists against the floor.  
Her foot slips across his hip, and she lowers herself into a squat above him. “It's so tempting to tease you,” she says.  
Biting at his lower lip, he grins. She's dripping on him, pinpricks of heat on the underside of his cock. The words are there, burning on his tongue like the flush on his cheeks. He relaxes his hands to run his fingers up her toes, over her feet, up to rough scales covering her lean calves. “Vetra,” is all he can manage to say, and it comes out like a soft moan. Her blunted talons brush across his hips, and they stutter up, rutting at the air between them. “Please, I want you,” he gasps. “Only you.”  
She grasps him, and the relief of her touch rips a deep moan from him. Grinning down at him, she lightly squeezes his cock then runs a blunted talon up its underside, around its tip.  
“O, fuck,” he pants. “Please, Vetra.”  
“Only me?” she asks, her grin faltering for a moment, her brow and mandibles twitching.  
“Only you.”  
“Scott, you can't say shit like that now. I know you're a flirt, but this isn't—”  
“I’m yours now. I would've done this on that mountaintop, but our fucking crew mates—shit.” With a harsh sigh, he grits his teeth and slams his head against the floor. It's still nearly impossible to think straight with his throbbing cock in her hand and her wet dripping on his balls.  
“Ryder, what the fuck.” She releases his cock to cradle the back of his head in her hands.  
“I’m serious,” he says, glaring up into her eyes. “I would never lie to you. I can't, Vetra. You're too important to me, and I thought we—I thought you trusted me.”  
Her pupils narrow, her mandibles pinch in tight. Her hands pull him up to sitting as her mandibles flare out. Her lip plates press hard into his lips. “This isn't just sex for you, is it?” she whispers, her breath and mandibles tickling at his lips.  
“No, I—I’m giving myself to you.”  
“Scott,” she says, a strange waver in her voice, "I don't—I don't deserve this.”  
His hands grab at the large plates of her carapace. He pulls her against him, her clit pressing into his cock. The action sends a jolt through them both, and they moan, in throaty unison. His hands release her, his hips shift away, and his eyes drop to the sharp angles of her belly plates.  
“That isn't true. You deserve so much more.”  
Her brows drop down over narrowed eyes. “More than you? Scott, you're—you're…”  
He looks up at her, then. “What?” he asks, his hand brushing up the ridge at the center of her torso. “What am I to you?”  
“You're—I don't know. Still can't believe any of this is real.”  
He laughs. “Should I prove it, then?” Reaching up, he caresses the plates of her face then traces the lines of her mandibles back to the brown grey of her scales. One hand cups the back of her head, and the other continues down her neck. “Kiss me.”  
As she presses her lips into his, her body likewise presses into his. Her clit and her wet brush up his cock. He gasps, and she catches his lower lip in her plates. Moaning, he rubs hard circles on the back of her head and squeezes at the back of her neck. Her tongue teases at his lips, and she rolls her hips, rolls her wet along his cock. His mouth opens. Her tongue thrusts in, filling his mouth, tickling at the back of his throat. He gags at the sudden intrusion. She tries to jerk away, but he cradles her head and presses his forehead to hers.  
“Too much?” she asks.  
He grins, “Just too fast. You should try again.”  
“Liked that?”  
He hums softly and rubs his nose against hers. Her eyes slip closed. As her plates press once more to his lips, he squeezes his eyes shut. When his mouth opens to hers, only the tip of her tongue cautiously enters. Eagerly, he sucks at her tongue and coaxes her deeper. His tongue flattens, moving along the underside of hers. She growls, the sound rumbling through his head, his chest pressed to hers. Her wet rubs along his cock then lifts. His hips jerk up. Her talons caress his balls, and he sucks harder at her tongue. It chokes him. He only groans softly, and her fingers tease at his cock before gripping him firmly. He manages a sharp inhale through flared nostrils before she rubs his tip up into her wet. It engulfs him as her hip settle against his. Her plates press hard into his soft stomach, but he hardly minds. His hips grind up into hers.  
Breaking from the kiss, she gasps, "Fuck, Scott," as her wet begins to slide along his cock. Her hips stutter a bit awkwardly at first before rolling against his in tight circles. His hand slips between them, holding her clit against him. "You’ll make me come.”  
“Do you want to?” he asks, rubbing his hand up her clit. “Do you want to come on my cock?”  
“Yes, Scott, please—”  
His free hand grabs her hip, and his feet slip up, knees bending slightly. His hips pound up against her, and she cries out. Between the echo of that cry and the tightening heat of her cunt, he nearly comes undone. He stops, ass lifted from the floor, cock buried deep in her pulsing wet, and he struggles to pant through gritted teeth. His hand continues to rub along her clit, his fingers teasing at its tip. Smiling, she grinds her hips, her cunt barely stroking at the base of his cock as its taut muscles flutter around the shaft and squeeze at the head.  
“Vetra,” he gasps, “I’m too close—”  
Her hand, in motion before he even spoke, reaches behind. Its two fingers and thumb fit all too well around his swollen balls. They squeeze, blunted talons digging into his skin. He groans as the strength gives out of his legs. His ass smacks against the floor, and she giggles, lightly kneading at him.  
“Come with me,” she purrs.  
Shuddering, he bites at his lip. “But—”  
Still fondling his balls, she rolls and lifts her hips. They work in tight, tantalizing circles, her wet slapping against him, her clit jutting up between his palm and belly. He can feel it: a deeper heat slowly creeping up her inner walls, quickening spasms of those walls around his cock. It feels so impossibly good. He can't resist. His hips rock with hers, their bodies furiously fusing together. Looking up at her, he reaches to brush a hand up her neck. Her head jerks, but his hand continues up the back of her neck, his fingers tracing the thin gaps between her plates. Panting, she leans to rest her forehead to his, her nose against his.  
“Scott,” she moans, her mandibles brushing his cheeks, “please—I want it—I want you—all of you." Her words come in sharp pants against his skin, between the echoing slap of their hips, but even then, he held onto that thin crest of pleasure driving them both on. Her grip tightened on his balls as he slammed up into her. He gasps, stuck there against her, in her claws, his whole body thrumming. It's too much, but he can't—he can't—  
Her hips don't stop. Her heat and her wet keep pulling at him, urging him on, and her voice has become something raw, primal. The only words he can understand are: "Scott, _please_."  
One hand on the back of her neck, the other holding the sharp lines of her hip against him, he groans, "Vetra." The tension in him finally snaps, and he comes undone. All else falls away but him pulsing deep within her while she throbs hard around him. For a long moment, they just breathe in the warmth of the other's breath and stare at each other. Then she lifts her hips, their bodies separating. It's all over far quicker than he'd like, even as the high of their sex fades and the full weight of it all begins to settle on Scott. "Vetra, I came inside you. What if—fuck, Vetra."  
"What if what, Scott?”  
“We gotta clean you out, and maybe we should wake Lexi—“  
“Ryder,” she chuckled, bending to rub her nose against his, “she ran the compatibility tests before we went to Kadara. Didn’t you get the message?”  
A smirk curls his lip. “No, must have missed it.”  
“And yet, all this...” She shifts back, settling to sit beside him, gesturing from his head down to his thighs, all of which is sticky now. “You’re a fucking mess, Ryder.”  
“Your fault,” he grins, and she lifts a foot to tap at his cheek.  
“Better ask SAM if the showers are free.”  
Without further prompting, the AI immediately filled Scott’s ears: “I have locked them down for you.”  
“Wonderful.”   
Scanning the floor, Scott spots his discarded clothing amid Vetra’s armor. The sight twists up his insides. After leaning over to snag his shirt, he tosses it to her.  
She catches it. Gives him a long look and tilts her head slightly.  
“O, uh—y’know...” He mimes wiping. “Less mess all down your leg.”  
“Pretty sure it’s all over your legs,” she grins.  
Rolling his eyes, he shifts his legs then hips to tug his pants back on. He stands with a soft groan then offers her a hand. “Well, come on and help clean me up,” he says with a wink.  
Her mandibles twitching, she takes his hand and stands beside him. “This feels like a bad idea,” she sighs.  
But he’s already got her suit around her ankles, so all she does is play with his hair as he pulls and zips the suit up. He flashes her a wide smile. “What could possibly go wrong?”  
“Shut the fuck up, Scott.”


End file.
